<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Fire &amp; Diamonds by salamoonder</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24657286">Fire &amp; Diamonds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamoonder/pseuds/salamoonder'>salamoonder</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gifts from the Dark [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anger Management, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Grossness, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Comes Back Wrong, Identity Issues, Other, Panic Attacks, Resurrection, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:06:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,511</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24657286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamoonder/pseuds/salamoonder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Nein are falling apart. That much is clear to Caleb. They need Mollymauk back, and they need him no matter what the cost. He does what needs to be done. (It's his job, it's his job to risk it all because otherwise what use is he to the Nein? To Nott? How else can he <i>earn</i> their protection, their trust, their love?)</p><p>Only...they don't exactly get <i>Mollymauk</i> back. What they get is a broken shell of a tiefling who wishes they had left him in the dirt.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jester Lavorre &amp; Caleb Widogast, Mollymauk Tealeaf &amp; Yasha, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast, Nott &amp; Caleb Widogast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gifts from the Dark [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783858</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fire &amp; Diamonds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I did choose not to warn because of the resurrection nature of the fic, but also fair warning there will Probably be some fucked up stuff coming, prooooobably in the form of self harm.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Strangely, Caleb feels okay today.</p><p>Everyone is quiet and sniffly (from crying or colds, he’s not sure) and the road has stretched on for at least two eternities, and he thinks he just might be able to sleep. His mind has stopped drifting, over and over, to Molly’s last words, to the blank, unclosing eyes, to his easy grin and the smooth, theatrical manner in which he handled his swords, lopping off heads and stabbing through ribs as elegantly as though it were a dance.</p><p>Instead, he is thinking of Jester pulling the moon from the deck, of Beau haphazardly scrubbing her whole face with the wraps on her forearms, of Caduceus’s easy words of comfort, of Fjord’s sudden look of relief when the summer’s dance fused with his patron’s blade. He glances over at Nott, who is asleep with her flask tucked tightly under her arm. They are together again, for better or for worse, and that means this is all over for a bit.</p><p>He can finally fucking <em> sleep </em>.</p><p>Frumpkin appears at his side with a questioning “mrrrp?” and he reaches down to pet his familiar without really looking. He’s rewarded with a soft purr. He starts to murmur to him, just nonsense in Zemnian, before he looks up and sees Caduceus watching him. Caduceus tilts his head to the side, blinking at him very slowly, in a manner that is so much like Frumpkin that for a moment Caleb is not entirely sure that the firbolg isn’t mocking him.</p><p>“He’s quite lovely,” he says, his voice dropped to about half the volume it usually is, and as Caleb looks around he realizes that they are the only ones awake.</p><p>“Thank you,” he says, a little taken aback. Frumpkin, sensing the compliment, briefly leaves Caleb’s side to purr against Caduceus’s leg. Under the pretense of watching his cat, Caleb takes a moment to look over Caduceus. He’s curled up so awkwardly, like someone who believes they’re much smaller than they are. Caduceus is angular and tall and strangely wild, and he looks about as out of place in the cart as Caleb feels in the pillow trove. “It’s, ah...a nervous habit, the Zemnian. He can hear me.” He taps the side of his temple. “Up here.” He’s not quite sure why he’s explaining this to Caduceus, but he just nods.</p><p>“I understand. It’s nice to know someone’s listening to your words, even if they can’t talk back.”</p><p>Caleb nods, a little relieved at Caduceus putting it into words. “He is a very good cat,” he says, just because he can’t think of anything else, and Caduceus smiles.</p><p> </p><p>♡ ♡ ♡</p><p> </p><p>Beau is stomping through the mud outside the Leaky Tap with such ferocity that bits of it are flying up and smacking Caleb in the face. He winces with each impact and turns his head subtly away from her; he doesn’t exactly mind being dirty but it does hurt a bit.</p><p>“Beau!” Jester hisses. “Look what you’re doing to Caleb. He was already stinky and now he’s stinkier.”</p><p>Beau freezes, one boot uplifted, and looks guiltily over at Caleb. “Sorry, buddy. I was, uh. A little stuck in my own head.”</p><p>“Understandably, we all are,” says Caleb, giving her a little nod, and he sees some of the tension leave her shoulders. Beau has been careful and restrained since she delivered Molly’s eulogy, an attitude that Caleb does not think will last, but in the meantime he will indulge any awkward politeness that will make her feel better.</p><p>The Leaky Tap feels muted and dull without--without the laughter and breathless whispers and the banter that they usually carry into it. Again Caleb is grateful for this. He simply wants to sleep, wants to forget the stress and excitement and intensity of the past week (has it really only been a week?) and curl up with Nott and Frumpkin and just rest without dreaming. Hell, he doesn’t even want to read. He just wants all this to come to an end for a little while. He zones out while they’re asking for rooms and comes out of it belatedly, digging frantically in his satchel for gold pieces, when everyone else starts to drift towards a table.</p><p>“I have--did you all already pay? That’s not--” There’s a heavy hand suddenly on his shoulder, and he looks up at Fjord.</p><p>“Later, Caleb. We’re fine for now.”</p><p>He starts to protest again but Fjord frowns at him, a baby tusk poking its way out from his lower lip, and Caleb is distracted or endeared enough by the sight that he shuts up.</p><p>He barely tastes dinner; instead, he turns his attention to the others, watches Jester and Beau whispering and smiling and, eventually, laughing from their corner of the table. Fjord and Nott are taking friendly jabs at each other, and Caduceus watches the whole thing unblinkingly, occasionally leaning forward to ask a question. Caleb catches his eye across the table and he meets it curiously, but returns his attention to the conversation when Caleb fails to say anything.</p><p>Halfway through their second round of drinks Jester bursts into tears and Fjord awkwardly throws an arm around her, which only makes her cry harder. Beau reaches out wordlessly and takes her hand, looking uncomfortable but determined.</p><p>“He should be here,” Jester whispers fiercely. “If I had been there--if I knew more spells, or, or-”</p><p>There is a loud and immediate protest from all sides of the table.</p><p>“There was nothing any of us could’ve done,” Beau tells her, sounding a little like she’s trying to convince herself.</p><p>“If anything, it’s my fault for not being able to find you all,” says Nott, which is unacceptable to Caleb, but before he can say anything Caduceus clears his throat.</p><p>“Jester, Nott--please--I may not have been there when your friend died but I’ve seen firsthand how you fight with lives at stake. I have no doubt that all of you did your utmost and blaming yourselves for what that creature did...it doesn’t seem to be very productive to me. And I think your friend wouldn’t want you to sit here making yourselves miserable.”</p><p>Jester sniffles into Fjord’s arm for a second, and then looks up at Caduceus with eyes ringed in indigo. “I suppose you’re right...I think Molly...well, Molly wanted people to be happy. All the time. He was good at making people happy.” She looks to Beau, almost for reassurance, who nods.</p><p>“He just wanted to get people to laugh, I think,” she says, and then pauses. There seems to be more at the tip of her tongue, but she just shakes her head and tucks a strand of Jester’s hair back behind her ear. Jester half laughs through her tears.</p><p>“He was really really good at it too, he just said, y’know, whatever the fuck he wanted, but it was always so funny and clever. It’s a shame he never talked to the traveler.”</p><p>Beau manages a weak laugh at that, and Caleb just...stares into his mug of ale. He has nothing to contribute to the conversation. He hates listening to his friends beat themselves up about this. As if...as if…</p><p>He stands suddenly, pushing his chair in and tossing two gold coins on the table before anyone can protest. “I’m going to bed,” he announces, and makes his way upstairs. Nott is calling after him, but he ignore her for once. He hears Caduceus, his voice soft but carrying in the din- “Let him go. You all need time to process.”</p><p>Only Caleb doesn’t need time to process. He needs time to plan. And think. He locks himself in one of their rooms, tosses his things on the bed, and summons Frumpkin, who steps out of a rip in reality at Caleb’s feet and looks at him expectantly.</p><p>“I need to think,” Caleb mutters, and Frumpkin winds around his ankles, steady, consistent. “I need to-I need..<em>mein gott,</em> Frumpkin, I need someone better than me. Someone better than me, and more powerful than these people.”</p><p>Frumpkin hops up on the bed and presses his face against Caleb’s hand, which is dangling loosely at his side. He looks up at Caleb and their eyes connect, and Caleb takes a deep breath.</p><p>“You stay here, <em>ja?</em> I will be back soon.”</p><p>Frumpkin gives an affirming mew and curls up on the bed. Nott will know when she sees him here. That he’s okay. That he’s just gone for a walk.</p><p>Caleb picks up his satchel again, casts disguise self, and walks out of the room.</p><p> </p><p>♡ ♡ ♡</p><p> </p><p>Pumat is happy to see him, despite the hour. The face of the one reading at the counter breaks into a slow grin when he opens the door, and Caleb feels his heart jump in his chest a little. He can’t remember the last time he actually felt--what is this, wanted? Needed? And Pumat is always happy when they walk in, but Caleb has never been here without the rest of the Nein. This time it’s just him, and Pumat is still smiling, bookmarking his paperback with a scrap of parchment lying on the counter and looking down at him expectantly.</p><p>“Well hello there, Mr. Caleb. Can’t say I expected to see you back here so soon, but I’m happy to help. What can I do for ya?”</p><p>Caleb swallows hard, dreading the reaction that might come at his question, dreading it might flatten that smile into nothing.</p><p>“Ah. Good evening, Herr Sol. I was wondering--well, it is not a very conventional question.”</p><p>Pumat gives him sort of a “go on” look, and Caleb finds his eyes darting anywhere but the firbolg’s face. The buttons fastening his tunic. The amulets laid out in the glass case built into the counter. He focuses on a particular pretty sapphire, steels himself, and continues.</p><p>“I do not know the extent of your own magical prowess but I do know that you are in connection with the Cerberus Assembly and as such would have...perhaps...knowledge of the thing that I am curious about. I was wondering, Herr Sol, if you have any sort of spell that would grant life to one who had previously been--ah--”</p><p>Pumat’s eyes widen a bit, and he shoves his book to the side to truly focus on Caleb. “You’re looking for resurrection magic?” he asks, and his usually jovial tone has crept down a half octave or so, and Caleb feels himself go pink with nerves.</p><p>“I- yes. Essentially. Yes.” He looks up, forcing himself to meet Pumat’s eyes. “I would be willing to pay very dearly for it.”</p><p>Pumat is silent for a long moment before he lets out a low sigh and gives Caleb a slight, comforting smile. “Let me go get the boss for ya.”</p><p>“Thank you very much,” Caleb tells him. Pumat gives him a nod and vanishes into the back room.</p><p>Usually Caleb is able to hear Pumat consulting with his other selves, but today they must be speaking in whispers, for any sounds that might’ve made it to him seem to be soaked up by the rich rugs on the floor. Caleb looks down at them, tracing the swirls and patterns with his eyes, and thinks about Molly’s coat, about the delicate feathering up the side of his neck and shoulders.</p><p>Mollymauk is not gone, he tells himself fiercely. Just temporarily out of reach.</p><p>After the longest five minutes of his life, Pumat Prime emerges from the back room, goggles pushed up onto his forehead and wearing a somber expression. “Now, Mr. Caleb,” he starts. “I have no doubt that you are aware of the difficulties and the...price that comes with a resurrection spell. You are a very smart man, I’ve noticed that. But I would like to ask you to take just a minute more to really think about why you’re doing this and what good can possibly come of it.”</p><p>Caleb sets his jaw and stares at the floor. “I have had a few days of very quiet travel to think about it, Herr Sol, and I have made my decision. The others all think it was their fault. I…” he sighs, thinking, choosing his next words. “I cannot say for certain if that is true or not. However, I can say for certain that there is something I can do about it, and if I do not do that, then it is for sure and certain my own fault.”</p><p>Pumat gives him a long look. Caleb keeps his eyes fixed on the floor, hoping, praying. He hadn’t really thought about what Pumat might want to hear--he had only said what was on his own mind, and the minute he closed his mouth he began to regret it. Every last bit of this was riding on him, and if he was not careful, he would fail.</p><p>Then it really would be all his fault.</p><p>There’s a hand on his shoulder, bigger than Fjord’s and quite a lot fuzzier. “I understand, Mr. Caleb.”</p><p>Caleb closes his eyes in relief. The weight lifts from his shoulder, and Pumat moves back behind the counter. He comes back with a scroll that looks like it hasn’t been opened in years.</p><p>“Ten thousand gold,” he says flatly, and Caleb just stares. Pumat sighs. “I didn’t think so. But, uh, I would be willing to offer you a trade.”</p><p>Caleb thrusts his hands almost instinctively into his pockets, feeling desperate and defeated. He has nothing of value, nothing that an enchanter as powerful as Pumat could possibly--oh. No. He looks up at Pumat: his face is blank, expressionless, and sees himself reflected back in his eyes. He looks so small.</p><p>He clears his throat and says, “The use of my familiar Frumpkin for...for six months.” He can almost feel his heart tearing as he says it, but he knows as Pumat Prime tilts his head to the side and reaches up to scratch one ear that he’s hit upon the right thing.</p><p>“Two years,” says Pumat, and Caleb feels the breath leave his body.</p><p>“One,” Caleb begs, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. There’s a long moment of silence before Pumat nods, and Caleb immediately snaps his fingers to summon Frumpkin to his shoulders. He doesn’t want to draw this out any longer than he must. “Frumpkin?” he says, and his familiar lets out a soft questioning “mrrw?” in response.</p><p>“Stay--stay with Herr Sol, be good for him. He will be good to you.” He gives Pumat a meaningful look and Pumat nods solemnly. Frumpkin presses his face against Caleb’s cheek and then pulls back to look into his eyes, and Caleb can almost hear the “are you serious?” that radiates from Frumpkin’s eyes. He looks away.</p><p>An hour later, he is leaving. An hour later, he is repaying his debt to the Nein with gritted teeth and bloodshot eyes.</p><p>An hour later, he has reversed what Lorenzo has done.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>